Enigmatic Female

Pursuit of Balance

My life has become unbalanced in the past three or four months. I no longer go to the gym a minimum of three times a week, or drink eight glasses of water a day, or eat seven to nine servings of fruits or vegetables each day. Indeed, I've stalled to a near halt in doing any job-related work of a substantive nature, and have not completed a book since November (although I've started a few, the latest of which is a biograhy of Catherine the Great). These days, my time is spent daydreaming, making extraordinary lists for moving-related tasks, wedding plans, upcoming expenses, and job search findings, and prematurely packing my belongings into boxes that will soon make their way south via parcel post. I travel frequently, if not always in good nature, and have been watching more than my fair share of television, which was almost absent from my previous lifestyle. I spend hours and hours on the phone (nearly 2000 minutes were spent talking to Dallas on the phone last month, which does not include time we spent together, which was approximately 14 days, so when averaged out, we spent over 100 minutes a day talking on the phone). In some sense, this is just another winter -- as it gets colder and darker, I retreat farther and farther from activity and healthy eating, choosing instead to eat McDonald's cheeseburgers and desserts in an attempt to put myself into food hibernation. I must say, it's working well, but now it must end. I've realized that the happier I've been with Dallas, the less image-conscious I've become, resulting in high calorie, pleasure-giving foods like Butterfinger-topped frozen yogurt, guacamole and margaritas, carryout Indian food, and chips, many, many chips. Since there are already all kinds of food and love-related endorphins coursing through my body, there isn't the need for the runner's high I was craving and achieving this fall. The love-endorphins can stay, and I hope they do, but those pesky salt, sugar and fat highs I've been having must go. The post-engagement grace period is over. The wedding is precisely six months away, and I have about 10 or so pounds to lose before my dress fits perfectly (it fits now, but it could be much better in the tummy area -- no bride wants it whispered that she jumped the gun in the pregnancy department). To that end, I am strapping on my running shoes, throwing a new mix of songs onto the iPod Shuffle, and heading out for some sweaty, much-needed pavement pounding.

Well Being

After an excellent workout this morning where I learned yet another boxing move (I'm dangerous like John Travolta in a serious movie), I stepped outside to discover that the world is b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l today. I was serene as I have never been in New York, standing on the sun-soaked corner of 81st and West End at 8am breathing in the crisp autumn air. It was partly the endorphins from the workout, and partly a conversation I had last night that caused me to wake up with a smile, despite my alarm sounding at 6:15. I didn't want it to end as I walked back toward my apartment, so I kept walking, staying on whichever side of the street allowed me the most access to the sun, and ended up at Georgia's Bakeshop at 89th and Broadway. I have only ever been to Georgia's at night or on the weekend, never on a weekday morning when it is apparently frequented by every parent on the UWS picking up a croissant or scone for themselves and pains aux chocolats (I may have butchered what one friend refers to as "the mother tongue" just then, je m'excuse, there I go again...) for their backpack-carrying children on the way to school. I waited my turn and ordered a large herbal iced tea ($3.00!!!), watched them make it fresh for me, then headed back outside, only to discover that the corner of 89th and Broadway was a chilly spot with no sun to warm it, and that my damp workout clothes combined with the breeze and my iced tea were quickly dissipating all my positive feelings as the warmth seeped from my body. I quickly walked back to Amsterdam for more sunshine and headed home, where I now sit typing, iced tea finished, in my sunny bedroom, trying to think of any excuse to not go to work just yet.

Beefcake!

I just discovered I can flex the muscle under each of my shoulder blades and pull them down. How exciting is this!? A muscle to flex when I want to thrust the boobs forward! Having a trainer is definitely, definitely paying off.

Runaround

Going to the gym last week was a LOT more fun than going this week. Last week all the people at the gym were law students and professors, and next to law students and professors I can hold my own in the fitness department. Running with the girls' track team? Not so much holding my own with them. Not so much holding anything...except my breath as I suck in my stomach while the boys' track team runs by sans shirts. OK, so there is ONE thing better about going to the gym this week than last week.

Buckley's Cough and Cold: "It tastes awful. And it works."

A doctor on a talk show recommended this cold medicine and said it was the only way to go. As I have a slight cold that is developing into a ragged, nasty cough with congestion I decided to give it a try. I read the side of the bottle to see what makes this product special (aside from being alcohol and sugar-free, which are musts for me, as I would pass out for days with alcohol in a cold medicine) and saw that it says, "Dad described the taste as 'brisk' but to be real honest, it tastes real bad." How bad could cough medicine taste? I've had Robitussin and every other kind of Tussin out there and I was not scared. I should've been. This shit tastes like liquid Vicks VapoRub, no exaggeration. Lesson: When a cold remedy manufacture tells you something tastes bad, believe them, dear God, believe them. I gagged as it went down and then flinched at having to take another teaspoonful. This is *clearly* not a product designed for children.

All the pain aside, my throat is feeling better and we'll see about the congestion when I lay down.

Knock On Wood

Zinc lozenges taste like ass. I should have never said I haven't been sick in a long time.

Goalllllllls!

Today I received my official welcome package for my firm, including my compensation structure and benefits package, bar exam information, etc. Having a start date nailed down makes everything more real somehow, and I realize that my days as a student are numbered. My reaction to this has been to think of all the things I want to accomplish before I start work and find myself with a diminished capacity to engage in hobbies. Here's the list of things I want to accomplish before I start work September 13, 2004:

1. Learn how to bake bread like my mom makes.
2. Finish knitting the scarf I started at Christmas.
3. Be able to run 10 miles.
4. Finish learning how to play tennis.
5. Publish something other than this website.
6. Learn to rollerblade.
7. Complete 18 holes of golf.
8. Learn to make my grandmother's pie crust.
9. Listen to all my CDs.
10. Read all the books on my shelf.
11. Learn basic math and accounting skills.
12. Learn to read music.
13. Become proficient on the violin.

Precious Moments

Being asked in front of your yoga class whether you're wearing perfume and having to explain that it's deodorant, to which the teacher responds, "Well, I know it's hygenic, but WHEW, it's strong! Please don't wear it to class." This was then followed up by a general question to the class, "Is anyone here having their period today?"

Fiber over Fat

Apples are a poor substitute for my roommate's brownies, but substitute I must, for brownies are evil. They are not only delicious and fattening by design, they are addictive. Redundancy, thy name is E***...